


Traditions

by hypernousnight



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, BoTW really said "fuck the Hylian monarchy", Gen, Separated at Birth, Traditions of the royal family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25000666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypernousnight/pseuds/hypernousnight
Summary: It's tradition, they say, as she hugs two blonde bundles close.Hyrule is a land full of myth and magic. A land full of traditions so old, no one remembers where they began. But traditions are not always kind and choices are not always easy.The royal family, the bloodline of the goddess, suffer for it more than anyone else.
Relationships: Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> Housekeeping things:  
>   
> First - I don't own Legend of Zelda, the characters, the events, etc. That all belongs to Nintendo.  
>   
> Second - I don't want this story on Goodreads. Like, I feel like this is really easy to understand, but apparently I need to say it: Please don't post this to Goodreads or other review sites. If you want to review or rate this fic, please do so in the comments below - that's why they're there.  
> 

It's tradition, they say, as she hugs two blonde bundles close.

It's tradition, they whisper, as her eldest wails and her youngest watches silently.

This is just how things are, her husband says, as if he's an authority.

As if this hasn't been branded into her heart and her head since she was fourteen, princess of the realm and heir to the throne.

It's tradition, she thinks bitterly, as her younger child, with eyes like warm seas, silent but watchful, is taken away by her most trusted knight, the man who has supported her since they were both teens.

It's tradition, and she loathes it more than anything, cursing the Goddess she's meant to be devoted too.

Her eldest keeps screaming and she can't help but wonder if it's because her twin is missing.

Part of her worries her child doesn't even notice.

* * *

A secret is kept, a secret is buried.

A small coffin under an apple tree. She is queen, but she cries anyway, for a life lost. A life stolen away. Her daughter remains silent, held close, and she resents the aching emptiness of a missing babe.

She pulls her daughter in closer, cursing the gods, cursing her people, cursing her entire line.

It's tradition.

There's no marker for the grave.

But it's tradition. And the garden is filled with trees.

She lets her tears fall, crystalline in sunlight.

She doesn't make a sound

* * *

The years go by, and her focus is on her remaining child, her daughter. Zelda, because it's tradition, and she's never hated a name so much.

She never calls her that, always little bird, my darling, my clever girl. Never that cursed name, bound up in traditional chains.

Only two other people know the truth: her husband and her favored knight.

She wonders, when her little bird is off buried in books, or building with her blocks, how her other child might be. If their blue eyes stayed blue, or slowly turned green like her daughter's. If their hair stayed bright, vibrant like the sun.

She wonders, and she mourns.

But she is a queen, and queens never show weakness if it can be helped.

So she mourns in silence, in her first breath of the morning, and in her last breath at night, she closes her eyes and mourns for the split second between slumber and waking.

It's tradition, she thinks bitterly, as her daughter races up to her with gleaming eyes and bright smile.

How she loathes tradition.

* * *

Her daughter turns six, and she knows, with a heavy heart, she will not see her turn seven.

She wonders if it's her bitterness, if the Goddess has finally had enough of her. She does not pray, not to the one who took her child from her. She prays to the wind. She prays to the sky. She prays to every blade of grass she passes, every face she sees, every motion, every moment.

( _Please oh please oh please. Let my children be happy. Let them grow old and safe, surrounded by love and joy. Please oh please oh please_.)

Her knight knows, though he isn’t aware he knows yet. It’s in his every action, how he shadows her steps. She's slowing down, tiring faster. She silently delegates more and more to her husband, spending more and more time with her remaining child.

She knows she doesn't have much time. That there's a duty to fulfill. A destiny to set in motion.

She refused at every turn.

Let her daughter be a child just one more day. Just one more.

Each and every day.

* * *

The queen of Hyrule dies on a warm summer day. Her husband, sterner now in mourning, becomes regent. Her daughter, crown princess, heir to the throne.

Her knight, the quiet man who has guarded her since he was fourteen and she was sixteen, guards her daughter now.

* * *

A boy comes, hair golden unlike Zelda's sunshine blonde, eyes warm sea blue unlike Zelda's bright green.

She hates him.

He doesn't speak.

A wall separates them; one neither knows how to cross.

The king watches on, and he wonders.

* * *

Hyrule falls.

It falls and it falls and it falls.

It's tradition, the red-tinged darkness cackles, as it floods the streets.

It's tradition, it whispers to the wind, as it spreads farther and farther.

It's tradition, thinks the monster, as it's trapped behind fortified walls, it's vengeance paused but never ended.

And it laughs. It laughs and laughs and laughs.

It's tradition, it shows the girl her reflection, slowly changing the color of her eyes from vibrant green to aqua blue, her bright blonde hair to gold.

( _Oh_.) She thinks. ( _Oh._ ) As the pieces fall into place. ( _It's tradition_.) She thinks, tears welling in her eyes.

Darkness surrounds her. And the Calamity laughs and laughs and laughs.

* * *

Deep in the darkness, he wakes up.

A voice calls him Link.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been kicking around in my drafts for about...a month and a half now? Somehow I managed to fall into BoTW fandom without even owning a Switch, but whatever.  
>   
> I may continue this, I may not. I've been struggling to figure out how I'd want it to progress, and I can't come up with anything; that being said, if anyone wants to adapt/use this premise, please feel free (and rec them to me? I'd love to see this idea sprout and grow).  
> I don't plan on editing this for grammatical or spelling errors - so unless I horribly misrepresent a culture, sexuality, gender, religion, or anything relating to personal identity please don't leave a critique. All mistakes are mine and mine alone.


End file.
